A new day dawned.
The pale sunlight crept in through the cracked wooden windows of the ruined inn, dancing over Vanthelis's face as he slowly stirred awake. His limbs felt heavy, his mind clouded, and pain still lingered in his body like a fading echo.
He groaned as he sat up, his hand instinctively touching the bandaged wound where Cronus's axe had nearly claimed his life. Before he could fully collect his thoughts, a familiar smirk greeted him.
"Oh? Our sleeping beauty has woken up," Ishlar said with a teasing grin, sitting beside him and leaning back against the wall casually.
Vanthelis glared but didn't have the strength to rebuke him. Ishlar stood, dusting off his armor lightly.
"We found the orb," he said, tone shifting to seriousness. "That Maxis guy? Already dead when we arrived. The whole city's razed. Nothing left but rubble, corpses, and ashes. But... we did find something else: a chest full of gold and as per counting it contains a total of 5,036,875 gold coins. Come. There's something you need to see."
Still weary, Vanthelis got to his feet and followed Ishlar through the cracked floorboards and ruined hallways, down a hidden staircase that led to the inn's basement. The air was damp, reeking of old blood, burnt wood, and something fouler.
There, chained to the wall, naked except for his boxers, was a man. His eyes, sunken yet filled with rage, glared at the two of them.
"Who is this?" Vanthelis asked coldly.
"A priest from the Holy Church," Ishlar replied. "We found the Orb of Life with him."
The priest snarled, blood and bruises covering his face. "The Holy Church will know about this! You'll both rot in fire. Let me go, and I may plead for mercy on your behalf—"
Ishlar held up the Orb. It pulsed faintly with divine energy. He pushed the orb into Vanthelis hand.
A chime echoed in Vanthelis's mind.
Ding!
Found the Orb of Life.
Do you wish to exchange the Orb of Life?
Orb of Life x1
Gold Coins x 5,000,000
Exchange into:
Heart of Tarasque
Vanthelis blinked. The Heart of Tarasque? It was legendary—a magical heart that granted near-endless vitality and regenerative power. But... to exchange it meant betraying the naga's agreement. He clenched his jaw.
He turned toward the priest. "Why did you take this orb?"
The priest grinned wickedly, revealing bloodied teeth. "You'll burn, necromancer."
Vanthelis walked up and backhanded him with such force that blood splattered against the wall. He didn't stop there.
A cruel glint entered his eye. "I asked you a question."
He grabbed a pair of rusted pliers and dug into the man's gums, one by one, ripping out teeth as the priest howled. Ishlar turned his gaze away briefly, silent.
"Still not talking?" Vanthelis asked as he pressed a heated dagger into the priest's abdomen, letting the sizzling flesh release an acrid stench.
"Agh—alright!" the priest finally screamed. "The orb—it's for the Dragon Knight! We wanted to resurrect the bloodline... to create a true one, a dragon-blooded warrior that could transform into a dragon itself!"
Vanthelis froze. That... changed everything.
"The Holy Church intends to unleash dragons," he muttered.
"And they're experimenting on necromancer corpses," the priest added weakly. "Your people... stripped, dissected, studied."
Vanthelis's vision turned red. Fury flared in his chest.
He said nothing more.
He simply grabbed the priest's throat and squeezed until the man's struggles ceased. His corpse slumped, eyes wide open in horror.
Silence reigned.
Ishlar handed him the orb. "What now, milord?"
Vanthelis didn't respond. He held the orb tightly and accepted the system prompt.
Do you wish to change your heart into Heart of Tarasque?
He clicked "Yes."
The world changed in an instant.
Agonizing pain surged through his chest, like molten iron being poured into his veins. He collapsed to the ground, clutching his ribcage. His heart thudded violently—then stopped.
Then came a thunderclap inside his skull. Blood poured from his mouth and ears. His skin turned deathly pale, then flushed red as the transformation began. Bones cracked, muscles shifted, and his heart exploded with force before rebuilding itself anew, stronger.
Every nerve screamed. He writhed, choking on air and blood.
Ishlar could only watch, unable to help. Minutes passed like hours.
Finally, Vanthelis gasped sharply—and sat up.
He looked at his palm and slit it with a dagger. The wound healed instantly.
He was different now.
Stronger.
Faster.
Near unkillable.
But Ishlar stared at him with furrowed brows. Disappointed. "You traded the naga's trust."
Vanthelis didn't deny it.
"I know," he replied simply. "But I need this power. If I hesitate, the world will crush us."
Ishlar bowed. 'Then I will follow. Even if your decision is poor, you are still the one who will avenge us.' He thought in his mind
The Death Knight turned away. "We released the slaves and gave them gold and a ship. They've all departed."
Vanthelis nodded and slumped into a nearby chair. " Activate it."
He closed his eyes briefly.
Then opened them again. This was no time for rest.
A new threat was growing—one far greater than pirates.
He looked at Ishlar.
"Let's go."
The Death Knight activated the Town Portal Scroll, and the world shimmered as the two vanished into swirling blue light.